


Down to Earth with a bump

by Boxcult (Brynnen), Brynnen



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Grief, Imprisonment, Journey to Earth, Overwatch induction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 10:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13738755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynnen/pseuds/Boxcult, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynnen/pseuds/Brynnen
Summary: Winston has to escape the only home he's ever known and strike out on his own, hopefully finding camaraderie along the way.





	Down to Earth with a bump

Oh goodness, Winston blinked and groaned as consciousness reasserted itself. Re-entry had been even harder on his little craft than he had anticipated while building it. In his defence, the situation with Simon and Hypatia hadn't exactly made for ideal working conditions and he was frankly lucky to be alive.

  
He mentally reoriented himself with a swift glance about and yanked the lever to open the single hatch in his Aeneas spacecraft (a grandiose name for the cobbled-together contraption, but Winston liked it) and stumbled out onto the surface of the planet he'd spent his whole life gazing up at.

  
His muscles ached a little in the higher gravity, only to be expected standing on a heavenly body of such greater mass than the moon. The sky above was a huge blue expanse and he reeled at the vastness of it, no plexiglass safely bounding it from him. The scope and lack of enclosure made him feel almost dizzy with a sudden wave of agoraphobia.

  
His nostrils twitched as the wind ruffled through his fur and even his great mind was overwhelmed by the reality, the difference of the habitat in which he found himself from the only environs he'd ever known.

  
A droning sound drew Winston out of his examination of the local flora and he drew himself up to his full seven feet and two inches of height. Someone was coming and nerves and fear skittered through his awareness. He wanted to make a good impression on these people, the first new people he'd encountered in his whole life.

  
Three helicopters landed, disgorging a dozen armed troops each, their weapons clattering as the soldiers primed them and then they pointed them straight at him. Winston felt his heart-rate increase, even as he acknowledged the sense of this approach. The scientists had managed to radio, either for help or as a dire warning Winston didn't know, but they'd managed to broadcast several messages before Simon had destroyed the equipment. In light of the memory of that violence, Winston endeavoured to look harmless, letting his shoulders slump inward and his head droop.

  
'Greetings, defenders of Earth.' Were they UN? A national army? Overwatch? He couldn't tell from the uniforms they wore - that sort of information hadn't been particularly relevant back home and Winston had never been sufficiently interested in war and soldiers to read about that sort of thing. He regretted that now. He regretted many things at the moment though.

  
A sharp stinging pain erupted in his buttock and he yelped in shock and pain. He reached back and pulled... yes, that was a tranquilliser dart from his backside. 'You know, as a quadruped my gluteal muscles are less...'

  
'..well developed than yours so that is a poor choice of injection site.' Winston told the cold, white-tiled floor he woke up on. He frowned in confusion. What had they drugged him with? Why was it so cold here? He looked around. Why was he locked up?

  
'I tell you there's no telling if it's dangerous or not!'

  
'He is still a patient and Ana is on hand to sedate him if there is a problem.' The second voice was female and German-accented. She sounded frustrated as if she had been arguing with the first voice for a while. Winston shifted awkwardly, embarassed to be the cause of an arguement.

  
'He's awake.' A third voice observed.

  
Winston turned to the large wall, the one made of some kind of toughened glass compound and gave the three humans on the other side of it a smile and wave that he hoped came across as unaggressive even to people not well versed in the body language of non-human higher primates. 'Hello.'

  
'Test subject 28?' One of the women asked. She had wings and a bright golden halo that looked like some of the primitive religious imagery Dr Winston had shown to him in their cultural studies. 'I am Mercy, this is Ana and this is Reaper.'

  
She gestured in turn to a woman lying across the far side of the large room and an aggressive-looking make who reminded him of Simon with that glowering expression. Winston endeavoured to watch himself around the hostile male.

  
'Pleased to meet you.' He drank in the details of their faces, physiques, costumes - so different to the dozen humans he'd been permitted to meet with thus far in his life. 'Where am I?'

  
'You're in Overwatch custody for the time being after the moon debacle.'

  
Winston bristled at that - wholesale slaughter such as that was a mere debacle? Perhaps he should fear these humans more than they him.  
It seemed that he'd merely exchanged one form of captivity for another as his movement was once more curtailed - this time by plexiglass and the deadly potential of a sniper rifle instead of the power of huge fists and violent rage. Either way it felt like tyranny and with nothing but bare walls and regular meals marking the passage of time to fill his days he had nothing by time and the constant thrum of his thoughts and grief. On the Moon he'd been able to plot his escape, fantasise about getting to Earth and bearing witness to the horrific events he'd witnessed at home, but here escape seemed counterproductive. He sighed, the everpresent dark mood deepening.

A tap on the glass drew Winston from the latest round of gloomy thoughts which plagued him.

  
'Ah, ya Danaaya, are you bored?' A feminine voice spoke in a different accent to those he knew and he looked up to find his erstwhile silent shadow had come down from her high spot on the viewing gallery to view him from barely twenty metres beyond the plexiglass boundary of his world.

  
'Ana.' He recalled her name, looked at her in confusion. She gave him a strange smile he couldn't interpret and dropped the barrel of her gun just slightly so it wasn't pointing straight at him. The assured confidence of her movement told him she'd still be able to hit him easily if he became aggressive.

  
Belately he realised she'd asked a question. His mind seemed to be working at a fraction of its usual speed and he shook his head to try and clear it. 'Of course I'm bored, aren't you?'

  
'Eh, when I get off-shift I can amuse myself how I please - usually watching movies and reading. It's not so bad. I like to ready poetry, how about you?' Despite the readiness in her frame, for the first time in several weeks, someone was actually speaking to him. He ached at the realisation of how much he'd missed it.

  
'Only the poetry of the laws of science, the intricate secrets of the universe and hidden wonders we can only perceive through the majesty of mathematical formulae.' Oh yes, the long hours of study, discover and debate with Dr Winston and the others, how he ached at that memory.

  
Her face cracked into a grin. 'Ah yes, you were raised by scientists after all.'

  
The gentle teasing note in her voice only made his confinement hurt the more, knowing she would soon fall silent and the silence would only hurt more for this crumb of stimulus, of company. He remembered the twisted remains of fragile human bodies, paper notes floating past the windows after their consignment to space and laboratories littered with smashed equipment, bloodied hand and footprints displaying the timeline of monstrosity. He whimpered and curled inward. What was there left for him?

  
Mercy looked up from the security feed and fixed the older woman with an intense gaze. 'You're right. This is killing him.' The gene therapy might have increased his intellect to super-human levels, but Subject 28 remained a primate and those social instincts had clearly not been suppressed along with the wilder, less acceptable drives. His continued solitary confinement was as barbaric as a nineteenth century orphanage and his behaviour was symptomatic of what in those primitive times had been labelled 'failure to thrive'.

  
'How is the mission progressing to gather further intel from the Moonbase?' She changed the subject slightly.

  
Ana shrugged. 'That's above my clearance, but even without it, it seems obvious that this one is not aggressive. He's surely earnt a couple of books to read or something? Even Gabriel can't believe the latest edition of Astrophysics Now magazine is somehow going to be a security risk.' Ana grinned. 'Besides, there is an expression in English, 'It is better to beg foregiveness than ask permission', I think it is time we tested that hypothesis.'

  
Mercy turned to look at the feed again to hide her own smile. 'You're a terrible influence on me, Ana.'

  
The door opened and Winston sat up at the sound to see what was happening. The woman, Mercy stepped into his large cell, holding a bag in one hand and some sort of weapon or tool he did not recognise in the other.

  
'We have guessed at what your interests might be based on the available records and assuming that you are indeed subject 28.' She stepped through the door into the centre of the room. Her movement was wary, keeping him at a distance of several metres, and she stopped in the middle of the space to put down the cloth bag. The feathers of her wings splayed, quivering and Winston could smell the conflicting emotions, fear, excitement, pity and something not easily identifiable. Warm skin vapourised the unstable pheromonic compounds and the human before him's raised body temperature only confirmed the tale told by her scent. She was ready to retreat, not sure if this was wise, but willing to give him a chance to prove himself worthy of this display of trust.

  
'Thank-you, Mercy. Anything would be an improvement on staring at these four walls.' He looked up at her from his seated positio and smiled, carefully non-threatening even as he was aware of the absurdity of someone his size trying to look harmless.  
He pointedly waited until she was out of his cell and halfway across the vast hall before scuttling towards the mysterious bag.

  
'Ah-ah sweetie!' Gentle, soft hands pried his fingers from the mysterious, wrapped box and he looked up at Dr Winston with a questioning pout.

  
'Not yet, it's not your birthday until tomorrow.' Dr Winston's voice was warm and patient as it always was with him.

  
'My birthday? I didn't know I had one!'

  
'Everyone is born or manufactured on a particular day. Why wouldn't I want to celebrate your existence with you? I am so happy that you are in this galaxy with me, so we will celebrate together. Tomorrow.' Dr Winston's voice turned stern even as his eyes twinkled when he reached out to touch the mysterious box again.

  
'I'm happy you exist too, Dr Winston.' He wrapped his long arms around the human's neck and inhaled his scent, grateful and so happy to be with his Dr Winston.

  
The memory hit him hard and Winston cried out in pain as the grief overwhelmed him again. This time it was worse, his already miserable state lowering his emotional resilience. He fell headlong into the despair, throwing his head back to keen wildly, letting the sound carry his pain like a human's tears might draw off the worst of their pain.

The sound echoed off barren walls and he squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around himself and letting the pain burst from him in sonic form. He didn't hear the door open or the footsteps coming at him fast.

  
Burly arms engulfed him and Winston startled so hard at the unexpected gesture that he went mute with surprise. Cold metal pressed against his chest and face, but above him glittered gold. A torrent of sound, words he vaguely began to recognise as German, so similar to the things Professor Hoffman muttered when she was deep in thought.

  
The arms tightened around him and the metal-clad man rocked him, combing cold fingers through the fur on the back of his neck and keeping up a stream of soothingly-pitched German words until Winston went limp, feeling scoured out and empty in the wake of the grief-storm.

  
The stranger noticed and slowly released him, gradually moving back to reveal a freshly-scarred visage from which one bright blue eye home.

  
'Th..thank-you. That was... kind.'

  
'Nein, it was the right thing to do, mein neue Freund. I am Reinhardt, I am watching you today instead of Ana.' He held a gauntleted hand out that was only a little smaller than Winston's out and he shook it, reeling with wonder to find a human whose mass almost equalled his own.

  
'I'm Winston, I'm a scientist. From... uh... the moon.'

  
'Ja?' He seemed interested, so Winston sat back on his bed and began to explain. 'I was bred, along with several dozen other gorillas, to live on the moon as test-subjects to see whether it might be safe for humans to do so one day.

  
'One of the scientists, Dr Harold Winston recognised that I had an aptitude for science and encouraged me to develop my skills and knowledge.'

  
Reinhardt frowned. 'If you vere created to see if space is safe for humans long-term then how come you were raised by humans?'

  
Winston had to chuckle at the very sensible question, feeling as if the man were one of the students whose questions he'd answered in videocall lectures.

  
'The scientists who studied and oversaw us gorillas rotated out every six months, but even when he returned to terra firma Dr Winston called me every day.' Winston smiled at the memories of long calls, debating new theories, catching up on news and just being friends.

  
'What the Hell is going on here?' A yell interrupted them and both males jumped. Winston's heart sank as he realised it was the aggressive male, Reaper, who stood in the doorway with two guns aimed squarely at him.

  
'Ach, Commander Reyes, Winston here vas just telling me about his life. He's from the moon, you know?' Reinhardt sounded genuinely delighted by that and Winston hoped he wouldn't get into too much trouble with Reyes.

  
'Leave the subject alone, Wilhem. It could be dangerous; were under strict containment orders until the top brass have worked out what to do with it.'

  
Reinhardt gave Winston a look of regret, lifted a huge hammer from the cell floor and followed Reyes out of the cell. As the cell door closed Reyes began chewing out the other human, but Winston couldn't hear what was being said on the other side of the door and plexiglass.  
Reinhardt towered over the aggressive male who seemed to the be leader of this... herd?.. troop?.. regiment?.. of soldiers and scientists.

Reinhardt bowed his head and let his shoulders slump in a clear display of submission that Commander Reyes seemed to grudgingly accept. Winston however wondered if that had been a simple social display rather than a genuine apology.

  
More humans came to either view or guard him, only Mercy was permitted to enter to take sample, inject the gene therapy or to take readings of his various biological functions. Her hands were gentle as she placed an ecg pad on his skin or to stead a scanner. The contact was unnecessary, Winston knew from previous tests he had endured on Lunar Colony. The thought occurred to him that she might be allowing him the comfort of touch under the guise of clinical necessity. It was a kindness he clung to.

  
Winston tried to show his gratitude subtly, non-verbally as he was unsure of how much surveillance they were under and unwilling to cause her difficulty with Reyes.

  
The fourth time he did so, she pressed her fingertips lightly into his pectoral muscle twice in rapid succession as she removed the pads from his chest. Her face remained static, but the acknowledgement was clear. Was he getting through to her? Would they ever accept his pacific intentions?

  
'So Dr Ziegler, this is Specimen 28?' There was a new male today accompanying Mercy on her usual visit.

  
'Yes Sir.' She stood beside him and met Winston's eyes through the plexiglass. 'He has been positively identified through both gene sequencing and behavioural analysis.'

  
'What do you think, 28? Should we let you out of that cell? Can we trust you?'

  
Winston chuckled in surprise at the question and approached the glass on all fours to get a closer look at the new person. He stopped two metres back from the barrier, deliberately more than an arm's length back to show he was not a threat.

  
'Of course I'm going to say I should be released, it is in my interest to do so. Really the question from where I stand is whether you believe that I should. Or am I to be tarred with the same brush as the likes of Simon and Hypatia?'

  
The man stared at him for a long moment, then tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

  
'Fit him with the collar, Dr Ziegler.' He looked back to Winston.

'Consider yourself paroled, subject 28. Would you be willing to work for Overwatch?'

  
There were things unsaid there and Winston frowned as he tried to parse the full meaning behind those sentences. The scientists back home had been so much more direct with their communications. He couldn't grasp what the other questions might be, so he decided to be himself and hope that was what they wanted.

  
'The chance to help humanity into a brighter future? To be involved in alleviating suffering? To finally use my brain again and get some proper science done? Count me in!'

  
Mercy smiled at him, a small movement of her cheeks and eyes that transformed her face, like the sun breaking through cloud cover. She'd been on his side and he'd somehow lived up to her expectations. 'The Ecopoint data needs advising, Sir.'

  
The environmental testing site in the Arctic? Dr Amrit had been so excited by that project! It wasn't his speciality, but helping humanity and working n the sciences would be a wonderful legacy for both her and... Harold. His excitement was tinged by sorrow at that thought, but hope shone through.

  
Mercy's smile widened at his excitement. The new male unlocked the door and gestured her into to cell. He nodded towards the bulky collar in Mercy's hands.

  
'If you misbehave or endanger anyone, that thing'll deliver a massive shock that'll knock you out. You're getting your chance, but not at the expense of my people's safety. Don't make me regret this.'

  
It didn't weigh much, far less than the new sense of responsibility that had settled on Winston's shoulders at those words and Winston adjusted it cautiously. This was his brave new world and his actions would be judged far more harshly than back home.

  
Nonetheless, he would adapt. He gave a nod to acknowledge the words and rose slowly to his full height, holding out a hand of friendship to Mercy, his own personal champion.

  
'Thank-you for your courtesy, respect and kindness, Mercy. I hope to be able to repay you in kind, some day.' She squeezed his hand, her own so tiny in his vast mitt, then stood back to let him walk out of the cell.

  
As he stepped through the door, leaving one form of captivity behind him, Winston could feel a whole new world of possibility unfolding before him.


End file.
